


and we can disappear

by girlsarewolves



Category: A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010), Evil Dead (Movies), Evil Dead - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, Crossover Pairings, F/F, Femslash, Final Girl Femslash, Headcanon, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Movie(s), References to Addiction, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, fic disguised as headcanons/meta, headcanons/meta disguised as fic, horror femslash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-10-07 13:34:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10361592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlsarewolves/pseuds/girlsarewolves
Summary: they don't sleep easy, for fear of the monsters - human and demon and other - that might come for what they've hidden.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheYearOfTheWolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheYearOfTheWolf/gifts).



> Inspired by [this post](http://theyearofthewolf.tumblr.com/post/152342853125/freddy-vs-jason-vs-mia-nancy-three-years-have) and also written for the prompt: "Mia/Nancy - C. A moment's respite". 
> 
> Personally I am not a fan of the Freddy vs. Jason vs. Ash comic series, and I adore Nancy and Mia, so, I loved the idea, the picspam, and wanted to write something for these two. Plus, the world needs more horror related femslash. Feedback appreciated!
> 
> Warnings for: references to past child abuse, demon possession, sexual abuse, and drug addiction.

* * *

they don't sleep easy, for fear of the demons waiting in the dark of their own minds. they don't sleep pressed up tight, can't sleep in a tangle of limbs or find comfort in that intimacy. they're too familiar with violation for that to put them at ease.  
  
their bodies were turned into horror stories in different ways, but they still recognize the scars that run deepest, under the skin and the flesh and the blood and the bone. sometimes, in quiet mornings when the sun seeps in and briefly chases away the monsters waiting for them in the dark, they trace the scars on the surface, the easy ones. the ones that don't still hurt.  
  
caffeine and cigarettes are their closest friends; they have complicated relationships with addiction, but they've settled on vices that keep them going, even if not at their sharpest. they've learned to work through the jitters, just like they've learned to work through the pain.  
  
there are wards everywhere.  there are knives under their pillows and holy relics hanging from their necks. there is strength in their bodies, burned and broken and reforged into weapons against those who tried to use their bodies against them.  
  
there is a book in the back of their closet, bound in plastic and wire and chains, locked in a chest within a chest. there is a living, breathing ghost caged in their basement, bound and locked away for similar reasons. what cannot be stopped, what cannot be destroyed must be contained.  
  
they don't sleep easy, for fear of the monsters - human and demon and other - that might come for what they've hidden.  
  
paranoia keeps them from settling, that need to outrun anyone searching, the need to remain distant, anonymous from those they come into contact with. they can't stay in one place too long, packing up and moving on with their beat up car and tiny trailer; book safe in the trunk, ghost safe in its cage in the trailer. they ignore the weird looks they get, the way people eye Nancy's extreme look or Mia's prosthetic hand. they remain two punk girls, runaways, dropouts, trouble - nameless, faceless youths who communicate more with silence and body language than words, whose names change from place to place.  
  
they only kiss close-mouthed and trembling, touch becoming something awkward and uncertain. that trembling fear of finding those hidden scars, hitting just the wrong spot, is where they find comfort in intimacy. they take what they need, nothing more. it's not the life they wanted.  
  
they make do. they find what happiness they can. fuck the demons who tried to ruin them; they're only ruined if they think it, say it, believe it. they've learned to live with the damage.

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Rob for the prompt and support, and to Heather for encouraging me to get this written. I hope to write more for this crossover pair (and hopefully something that doesn't feel as similar to a previous Nancy/Kris au of mine).


End file.
